


Love's Secret Sauce

by Taz



Category: Hercules: The Legendary Journeys
Genre: Comedy, Incest, M/M, Mythology - Freeform, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-15
Updated: 2009-11-15
Packaged: 2017-10-02 21:05:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taz/pseuds/Taz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ares takes Discord and Hercules on a picnic -- a paean to pleasures, oral and otherwise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love's Secret Sauce

Ares had always suspected that Discord had a tender side, a part that she kept hidden from herself as much as from the other gods. But there had always been something in the soft swell of her breasts and in the fragile arc of her neck that spoke of tenderness. One couldn’t help noticing how the creamy skin swelling softly against the black leather straps of her bustier, belied the image of the hard dominatrix that she tried to project. He thought about that insight as he watched his lover eat and about what had brought the two of them to this spot in the golden hills of Thrace to rest side by side, all but naked beneath the ancient olive trees.

Eating, making love, it was all one the god decided as he rolled over and tongued the flesh of a firm thigh. He nibbled at the sensitive spot behind Discord’s knee and caught his lover’s eye. He curled his lips back, to show sharp teeth and bit into the tendons at the joint where his tongue had tasted. His reward was a gasp and a low moan that thrilled him deep inside. He wanted to reach out and take what he had wanted for so long. But he held off; anticipation is the spice of life.

It pleased him to be gentle now that their personal war was over. He needed to show his lover that there was a peaceful side to the God of War, and so he had brought sweet grapes and a crisp cold wine to honor the occasion. He had already poured some of the wine over Discord in a teasing demonstration of his powers and rubbed every part of her body with oil that was delicately scented with rosemary. He had licked it from his fingers as he pulled them from the secret recesses of her body and his lover had laughed, as though not believing his impudence. He had said, “there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you.”

He moved to the spot where loin joined thigh; bit deep and her rich juices ran down his chin and into his beard. Her smell would be on him all night as a heady bouquet to their lovemaking. He was already unbelievably hard but he wanted to take it slowly, savoring every gesture, making it a banquet of the senses. Under a blue sky, on the green grass, Discord was spread for pleasure on pale linen scattered with red rose petals and waxy green olive leaves. He bit into her flesh again and smiled.

If he were being honest (although there had never been honestly between and no reason to expect any) what had finally driven him to it, was the way he had seen her tilt her head, the avid expression and greedy gleam in her black eyes as she looked in the scrying pool watching his half-brother. He could tell she wanted Hercules. _Was he jealous?_ _No_, he had dismissed the thought as beneath him. But he was possessive, and to have her look at his brother like that; she should have known better. Then brazenly suggest that he propose a truce with his semi-divine half brother—to celebrate the solstice, perhaps—invite him to a banquet or just over for coffee. What kind of a fool did she think he was? Well, Hercules was just naïve enough to fall for a ploy like that, but not the God of War. It was intolerable. She couldn’t play games with him like that.

Discord had fought him like a goddess and he honored her for it, but in the end, no matter how hard she fought, he was Ares and she had seen her fate in his eyes. The injuries she had inflicted on his body, though, were like badges of honor. There were stab wounds on his hands and long bloody scratches on his arms, it pleased him to keep them to show off as proof of her passionate nature. In the end he had mastered her and this day was his reward. He had promised himself he’d be gentle, but it was going to be hard to keep that promise—he had been waiting too long.

“You’re really amazing, you know.” He closed his eyes, listening to rare praise in the honey rich tones of his lover’s voice. “I had no idea you could cook—much less make _coc-au-vin_. And this place it’s perfect. The air is so completely still.” The buzz of a wandering bee made a liar of the voice and they both laughed. 

With his eyes still closed, he reached for his lover’s body and found a bounty of sun warmed flesh. His fingers slid easily over a swelling breast and. found an already tense nipple. He rolled it between his fingers, squeezing hard, and heard the urgent need in the low guttural moan that provoked. He marveled at how sensitive the flesh between his fingers was how it grew harder in response to each twist and pinch. There was nothing “semi-divine” about it—his half-brother had the best pecs on Olympus.

“To Tartarus with it,” he growled and tossing the bone aside, took his lover in his arms and rolled over on top of him. Hercules pretended to fight him but it was only play; the demigod was laughing as Ares caught his hands and pinned them above his head. He grinned down into his brother’s smiling eyes as he bent to assay his new territory. He marked it with little nips and bites along the jaw and cheek that he soothed with his tongue, provoking breathless gasps. He found an ear and searched its maze with his tongue, excited by the slight bitter taste of wax. He sucked carefully on a soft earlobe until his brother’s moans pierced his gut like darts. He wanted to savor every part of his brother’s body and hear every noise that Hercules made while he did it.

He covered his brother’s mouth, sweet with grapes and wine, with his own. They wrestled tongue against tongue until Hercules surrendered and permitted him to explore every hot, wet vaulted arch. He sucked and kissed, delighted by every tiny moan. When he pulled back and looked at his brother’s face, Hercules cheeks were flushed, his slightly parted lips were swollen and red. He braced his hips and pushed his erection against the firm bulge in his brother’s pants. “Feel me?” The demigod’s reply was an inarticulate groan of assent as he tried to push back. “Good, because there is no place in you that I’m not going to go.”_ You’re mine_, he thought, _and it’s time you knew it_.

He saw only surrender and fervent need in his brother’s face so he was surprised by the wave of desire that surged through him. The force of it distracted him and he lost his grip on Hercules’ hands. Before he could reassert control, Hercules had managed to sit up. But instead of knocking him down and taking the superior position, the demigod wrapped hungry arms around his waist and nuzzled, as though he were starving, into the thick dark fur that covered Ares’ chest. Unable to help himself, Ares cupped his brother’s head in his hands like a chalice, and guided the searching mouth to a nipple. His brother latched onto it and began to suck. He arched his back at the sensation and it felt as though currents were flowing between them.

Mesmerized by the sensation, he looked down at his brother’s tawny head and began to stroke it. Strands of hair slipped like milkweed floss through his fingers. He was caught in the tides of energy that flowed back and forth between them. He stroked his thumb over an arched brow, around the soft coves of an eye and across a slightly rough cheek as he watched his brother nurse. When he broke the suction of his brother’s mouth with his thumb, as he had seen the mothers of infant children do, Hercules’ eyes opened. The pupils were so dilated they looked black, but they closed again as Ares resettled him at the other breast. _And it seems that I’m yours and now I know it too._ A soft wind had came up and the olive tree rained its fruit down on their picnic.

Afraid the unaccustomed tenderness would be taken for weakness, he didn’t say anything of that understanding aloud of course, just watched his brother’s pleasure until he felt the sharp edges of teeth worrying at him. Then he put his hands on both sides of Hercules’ head and pulled him off. “I’m the god of war, not your dessert, little brother,” he said, knocking him flat. Unrepentant, Hercules laughed at him.

He picked up a ripe greasy olive and popped it into his brother’s mouth. Hercules chewed up the bitter fruit and spat the pit at him, laughing and scoring a direct hit on his cheek. Then it wasn’t tenderness that overwhelmed Ares, that kind of disrespect had to be punished. He climbed off, stood up and began to unlace his breeches. At his feet, his brother started to do the same. But, assisted by verticality and gravity, Ares was naked before Hercules was able to skin his pants off. Amused he stroked his erection and watched the demigod struggle with sweat damp leathers before he gave in and knelt to help.

Compassion is always a mistake the enemy can take advantage of. Kneeling brought his penis to a level just a little above the demigod’s mouth. Hercules’ must have still been hungry because he pounced and tried to swallow it while Ares was handicapped still struggling with the stubborn leathers.

Surprise is a good tactic, but the feint is the most precisely calculated move in a battle and the god of war must be a tactical genius. He let it appear that he had fallen beneath the onslaught, even going so far as to allow Hercules to suck on him. He closed his eyes as the demigod wrapped his tongue around the head of his cock and held the back of brother’s head with one hand. When Hercules’ tongue probed its way down the slit to the most sensitive spot, he moaned convincingly but he never lost sight of his objective. As the leathers had came off, exposing his brother’s perfect butt, he simply leaned back and, off-balance; the demigod fell across his knees with a yip of surprise.

“You’re not going to spank me!” he said and tried to turn over. Ares laughed. If Hercules thought he could sue for mercy he had the wrong god. Besides, that muscular golden butt was just too perfect, it begged to be chastised. Ares held Hercules down and began to wail on it leaving bright red handprints on both cheeks. After the first five or six blows Hercules stopped struggling and his yelps became low-pitched gasps. His back arched and he thrust his butt in the air to meet each blow. Ares stopped at that point and rubbed his hand over it feeling the fire in the flesh. He could feel Hercules’ cock, just as hot and swollen, rubbing against his thighs.

“Do you want me to stop?” he whispered. _Say no, little brother, ‘cause I don’t think I can. You are just too damn beautiful with your ass in the air like this._

Hercules lifted his head, shook his mane of hair back and stropped his face against Ares shoulder. “More,” he groaned and Ares was content to oblige.

He punished him a little longer, then stopped to pet him again, this time trailing his fingers into the crack of his brother’s ass to the puckered opening of his body, encircling it with a fingertip. The demigod pushed against it, legs wide and Ares was overwhelmed by the urge to throw him down and take him like that, from the rear. But he wanted to watch his brother’s face as he took him for the first time, so he only played, making deep promises with the one finger until his brother was sobbing as though heart broken against his shoulder. Amazed Ares realized he would be Hercules’ first man. Then he used the hand that he had been holding Hercules down with to comfort him.

He knew it was unfair to make him wait any longer, so he tumbled him over onto the red and green stained linen and found the bottle of sweet oil that he had packed for the purpose. His brother watched him solemnly. They both pretended not to notice the tear streaks.

He poured oil on his palm releasing the faint scent of almonds as it warmed in his hand. Curious, he knelt between his brother’s legs and took hold of both of their cocks measuring them against each other. They were both pleasingly substantial and corded with thick pulsing veins. If Hercules’ dusky pink one was a tad longer, his was satisfyingly thicker especially at its ruby red tip, his brother had nothing to feel badly about. His large hand rode easily up and down both shafts as he slicked them with oil; the demigod’s eyes glazed over and closed as he tried to push up into Ares’ hand for more friction.

Ares let go of their cocks and briefly cupped the soft sack, rolling the balls inside it like olives in a velvet pocket; Hercules whimpered. Ares probed the crack and felt the gentle spring of muscles giving under his slick fingers; Hercules’ head tossed back and forth. Ares lifted his brother’s knees and spread him, pausing to admire the rampant cock stabbing the air. In a moment of impulse, he bent and worshiped it with his mouth. Hercules’ hands tangled brutally in his hair and a ragged voice told him how much he was needed to fuck-all get on with it before Tartarus froze over. It would be really cruel to make him wait any longer.

Positioning his cock at the entrance to his brother’s body, he pushed and Hercules’ back arched as muscles briefly fought but gave way before the welcome invasion. He remembered the promise he’d made to himself, that he would be gentle and entered slowly, claiming the demigod’s magnificent body inch by inch, as a plow breaks virgin land.

It was torture; drops of sweat fell on his brother’s chest and belly and his own eyes were stinging with salt. He warred with the need to thrust and managed to hold back until Hercules was pushing urgently against him. Ares raised a voice from someplace deep inside of himself, howling in triumph as Hercules cried for more. Ares gave it to him; he rammed into that hot, sweet ass, with slow powerful strokes. Pulling his cock almost completely out, then beating it in to the hilt, feeling the supple flesh over every inch, until he was in so deep he was sure the tip of it must have been touching his brother’s heart.

Making the mistake of looking at Hercules’ face, he was entranced again by the look of smoky ecstasy that made the demigod’s eyes black as the sea at night. He leaned over and kissed him, surprised to feel the need for so delicate a gesture. The demigod’s lips were pliant and clung to his when he broke for air and their cheeks rasped against each together. The muscles at the root of his organ were clenching and Ares could feel subtle contractions along the length of his cock.

The sheath that enveloped him began to throb rhythmically and a pool of hot liquid spread between them, thrilling his belly. If sensation had carved a channel through him before, orgasm was an inexorable tide that swept all barriers before it. He grabbed hold of the demigod’s hips with bruising force, pounded mindlessly into Hercules’ ass with short, fast strokes, buried his head in the soaking hollow of Hercules’ throat before pouring himself into his brother’s body in hot, wet streams and falling into an endless spangled night.

When he came back to himself, he was enclosed in his brother’s arms. Hercules’ shoulder was a pillow for his head. Gentle fingers stroked his face and when they brushed his lips, they stopped and traced them. He opened his mouth and savored one; it tasted like the ocean. Satisfied with himself, he sat up and stretched. He looked down and met sleepy blue eyes, leaned down and kissed his brother on the mouth. Caught in affection he began to comb Hercules’ tousled hair into some kind of order. Hercules caught his hand and stroked the back of it against his cheek before he kissed it and said, “I didn’t think there was any hope that you’d ever forgive me after what Iolaus did to Discord.”

“Discord?” He had forgotten Discord. “Oh yeah, Discord.” He reached over, picked her other tender thigh off the plate and flicked a few drops of sauce from it. “You want another piece, Babe?”

 

 

_The End_

03 May 1999

**Author's Note:**

> Very early Tazwerk and, while not the first Herc fic I ever started, it is the first I ever finished and posted.


End file.
